Neolithia
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Greg Sanders, when half asleep, has Neolithic tendencies. A drabble of sandle fluff.


Neolithia

…

Greg Sanders, when half asleep, has Neolithic tendencies.

…

Sandle

…

"Sara." He was whining. He knew it. He was okay with it. Sighing heavily when she didn't answer, he whined again. "It's late." He sat up, climbing out of the bed, padding his way through the apartment, searching for his girlfriend. Workaholic girlfriend. The slow metallic screeching of the archaic school bus a floor below his window filtered in, pausing to unload the half dozen kids that lived in his building.

Two thirty. The bus came at two thirty every afternoon.

Their shift began in five and a half hours. They needed to get to bed.

He rounded the corner of the hall, and stood against the doorjamb, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. She sat there, at his kitchen table, scouring over her case from last night, researching context of some piece of evidence on her laptop. He wasn't sure of the details; he'd drawn the double homicide, while she'd been given a cult killing of a teenage girl. While his case had been routine, hers had shaken her.

Sara's fingers tapped lightly on the keyboard, and stroked the 'return' key, watching, as search results appeared on the screen in a neat, filed, manner. She winced as she heard him shuffling down the hallway, biting her lip to take in the sight of him, half asleep, trudging up to the doorjamb, leaning against it. He ran a hand through his disheveled, curly dirty blonde hair, making it stand up all over. He needed a haircut. She loved it when he needed a haircut.

He shifted his weight, running a hand along his unshaven jaw, feeling the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. His plain white t-shirt was old, worn, the material thinning to a softness that always made her smile. He planted his hand on his waist, inadvertently pushing his pajama pants down past his hipbone, revealing an inch or so of skin. She caught his gaze, and smiled apologetically, halfway hoping the gap between her two front teeth would work it's magic on him, halfway hoping he would order her to bed and refuse to hear her protests.

Greg did neither of these things.

He stared at her for a few long minutes, and then nodded, as if making up his mind.

"Okay then." She threw him a questioning look, trying not to laugh as she detected the start of a grin at his lip. He took her hand, pulling her out of the chair, and collected her legs from under her as soon as she was standing on them.

"Greg!" He smiled, supporting her back and her knees easily, holding her securely against his body as he turned, and doubled back down the hall and into his bedroom. "Greg, put me down. I wasn't finished-"

"Shift is in five hours, Sara, you need to sleep." He stepped around a pile of laundry, and one of her shoes lying on the floor expertly, stopping when his shins hit the mattress, releasing her onto the bedspread, already half pulled back.

"Greg-" She sat up, starting to reprimand him, but his lips came crashing down against hers forcefully, shutting her up. He climbed over her in one fluid motion, his affection abruptly turning hungry, deepening enough to make her moan huskily against him. Instinctively she dropped a knee to the sheets, allowing his hip to grind roughly against the inside of her thigh. She started to move her fingers to his hair when he pulled away, standing up again abruptly, leaving her breathing heavy and ragged, on her back. She arched an eyebrow at him, prompting him to either explain himself, or continue. He shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the sudden onslaught of affection.

"I had to get you into bed _somehow_." He threw her a lopsided grin, and she smiled back sweetly. Okay. She would humor him.

"And now that I'm here?" He laughed, climbing on top of her, pressing a series of kisses along her neck, collarbone. Making her squirm. He pressed her hips into the mattress suggestively with his own, dropping his head into the crook of her neck, whispering in her ear.

"We sleep. Five hours." He rolled off her, and sat up, reaching for the covers, and pulling them over both of their bodies before cuddling up to her, wrapping an arm securely around her waist, dropping a kiss to her shoulder and breathing in the scent of her hair as he closed his eyes. He felt her chuckle against his grasp, and he smiled, letting her twist in his hold to face him. She laid a hand along his jaw, hooking a leg around his hip, and eliciting a slow, thorough kiss from him that made him groan with traces of feral want, before pulling away, and closing her eyes, snuggling up to his chest.

"Good night, Greg." She exhaled, relaxing completely in his arms, smiling at the feel of his t-shirt against her cheek, and the feel of him pressing a kiss to her hair.

"G'night, love." There was a hint of accomplishment in his voice, and she chuckled against him, amused that he found pride in his caveman methodology of getting her to sleep between shifts. She twisted in his grip, dropping an intimate kiss to his lips, making him smile sleepily. Five hours. A year ago, he would have stayed on top of her, flashing a mischievously assembled smile and pondering just how many times _could _they go in five hours?

Her vision blurred instantly, catching her off guard, as she realized just how much he had grown up. He wasn't the eclectic kid she met in DNA all those years ago. Glancing around the bedroom at the variety of posters, ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Marilyn Manson, books ranging from Anthropological DNA in Forensic Science to Michael J. Fox's autobiography and a dog-eared copy of Kahlil Gibran's philosophical musings, she corrected herself. He was still a bit eclectic. He just wasn't a kid anymore.

She gasped inaudibly as he tightened his grip, running his hand from her stomach to the inside of her thigh and back up again suggestively, his words hot in her ear.

"Stop thinking and go to sleep or I won't let you get me naked after shift." His mumbled words made her laugh, and she settled against him companionably, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back lull her to sleep.

………

Meh. Something lighthearted before Greg becomes a punching bag on Thursday. Hope you enjoyed. Was stuck in my head. Sorry for neglecting Greg and Sara these last few weeks, and posting too much Danny and Lindsay. Gotta go where the muse takes me, I guess.


End file.
